The Heartless
by the mizter
Summary: "He who is heartless shall be opposed by those whose hearts dictate justice." Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 14 - Clause 7
1. Prelude

_**The Furious Five are characters owned by DreamWorks Animation SKG, Inc.**_

_**Vergil is a character owned by Capcom**_

Author's notes:

So I finally gathered the will to write my first serious attempt on a multi-chapter fic. Curiously enough, it's a crossover, of all things.

A few things I'd like the readers to bear in mind:

First and most, I'd like to let you know that I'll try really hard to write this fic in such a way that it even those who are unfamiliar with one of the two stories involved in this crossover (Kung Fu Panda and Devil May Cry) are able to read it and get it without having any prior knowledge of one of them. In other words, if you're not familiar with Kung Fu Panda, I'll attempt to write this fic in such way that you can still enjoy it even knowing any of it. Likewise, if you have no knowledge on Devil May Cry, I'll try to write the story so you can still be entertained without knowing a single word of it. Of course, I'm afraid I can't say the same about those who have no knowledge on either (but I assume will be none), yet if you happen to know about both franchises, well, cheers!

That said, the story will still include winks of continuity regarding both franchises, so those who are fans of either (or both) will be able to spot and even fill out the (intentional) vague blanks. Just as a reference for the readers: the fic takes place before Devil May Cry 3 and (WAY) after Kung Fu Panda 2.

I don't plan this story to be really long (about three or four chapters, including this one, and of the same length as this one).

However, I do warn you that the story might get really violent. I will try not to turn it into an M-rated, but if during my writing I find myself pushing the envelope, well, I might just have to do that. Extreme violence and Kung Fu Panda don't personally mix with me, so again, I'll do my best to keep the story within the T-rating parameters.

And finally, though it should be obvious, if you happen to dislike or straight up hate any of the stories involved in the crossover, then I'd kindly suggest you not to read, but if you nonetheless desire to do so, you're on your freedom to go on.

Okay, that has to be the longest author's note I've written, so enough of that. On with the story.

**The Heartless**

**-x-x-x-x-**

**Prelude**

**-x-x-x-x-**

"_The blood of the hunter is not above the laws of the yin and yang; it exists as two opposites, one righteous, one nefarious."_

**Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 14 – Clause 2**

-x-x-x-x-

Power. It was all he desired. It was all he wanted; all he craved for; all he needed in his existence. His body and mind demanded it like nourishment. It was an impulse he couldn't control, yet one he willingly gave into, for power was his biggest desire. The day he became aware of the innate power that laid in him he marveled at it. But that would not be enough for him. As time passed, he desired to be stronger. And stronger he turned. But not even then his desire would be fulfilled. He wanted to be even stronger. He _had_ to be. It was an obsession he did not want to abandon. The feeling of might and strength filled his wicked soul with an indescribable pleasure.

But he knew there was something that would hold him back: his humanity. Those puny feelings and ideologies of morale and selflessness were an obstacle on his way to achieve ultimate power. He cursed his humanity and gradually sought to lose it. He relinquished himself from nuisances such as emotions, empathy, humor and regret. In turn, he embraced his disregard for everything and everyone. Becoming stronger was all it mattered. Whoever had to perish on his quest was of little concern to him.

Eventually, he discovered that the more power he obtained, the harder it became to get more of it, ironically. The means to obtain it grew limited and soon enough all viable options which long ago seemed attractive were now meaningless. He had to find the real source of true power. The one thing that would grant him his definite goal: become mighty and powerful beyond everything.

But where would he find it?

His obsession for power was of no hindrance for his intellect, however. Ergo, such question was of little obstacle for him. Where would he find it? Well, before he could find it he had to know how he could find it. And how could he?

Human lore. It was the most complete database and source of information on power; through its entire history, mankind had strived to become almighty and overrule the nature that created it. Foolish they were, however, at thinking that such power would be rightfully theirs. Ultimate power was not for puny life forms such as humans. Only a superior being like himself was worthy of such possession. And now, all he needed to do was to research on their failed attempts to obtain power. Where humans had failed he knew well he would succeed.

For Vergil, this was all truth. The way things had to be. The way he wanted them to be.

-x-x-x-x-

Naturally, a library was the ideal place to start. This one in particular, a rustic library located at the street corner of an old European villa, had something that drew him in over the others. It wasn't some public library where most of its contents would concern on academic subjects, classic literature, modern topics or the likes of. He had the intuition that within this library he could find things that would be of little relevance to the average human, but of complete interest for him.

At midnight, he silently broke in. The middle sized building housing the library had as only means of security a simple lock. _Yet another display of a human foolishness, _he thought. He turned on a few lamps on the hallways, just enough to allow him read, but without being bright enough to draw the attention of anyone who might wander outside and see the through the windows.

It didn't take him long enough to find the section he was looking for, which was ancient lore. Tomes about mythologies, folklore, old legends and even fantastic tales of long past filled the bookshelves of this short section. A common human would usually find this kind of texts as a mere pastime or as a creative muse for an artwork or fictional story.

For Vergil, it was like a goldmine. All he had to do was to dig through the useless rubble until he could find the gold he was searching for. But he had to discriminate; he could not just pick up any miserable little pebble of gold. He had to look for the largest, brightest and most valuable piece of gold he could possibly find.

Gold: precious, valuable, shiny and rare. Perhaps he could use it as a keyword to start looking.

He took the best looking tome of the collection and skipped towards the glossary. Where 'Gold' would lead him to, he'd start from there and each result would take him to another. Eventually, he'd find what he was longing for.

_The philosopher's stone; the ultimate goal in alchemy[…] _He paraphrased the information in his mind.[…] _a stone that would grant its wearer immortality and allow him to turn any matter into gold._

He immediately concluded that immortality was of little concern for him at the moment (eternal life did not equal ultimate might after all) and turning matter into other matter did not seem particularly attractive. He passed.

_King Midas; granted with the power to turn everything he touched into gold. This blessing, however, became his curse, when all his beloved beings became lifeless statues at his mere touch. He went insane and as means to stop his suffering, touched himself to become a statue as well. _

Same idea of turning things into others. Not attractive to him. He passed.

_The golden fleece; impenetrable and indestructible. It could deflect any attack aimed towards it. _

He passed. He did not want to rely on an artifact to attain immunity whose power remained in itself at all times.

_Greek Gods; their pantheon would occasionally grant their divine powers to mighty heroes to aid them in their quests. _

He passed as well. Greek Gods had all been slain long ago, precisely by the one being they wrongly lent too much power to. Besides, what point was there in getting power from a being that would never let him be stronger than them?

_The fountain of youth_. Again, immortality. He passed. _Genies and djinns; wish granters. _He passed. He doesn't want power granted by a stronger being. _The ark of covenant._ He wasn't a fool. That was no power, only a deathtrap.

He continued searching, but no matter where he looked he'd always end up with something he'd reject. Some were of meaningless power, others of power that did not interest him (and didn't even seem to reach the kind of power he wanted) and others were nothing but lies (some proved out by himself). All in all, things were pointing out his search to be fruitless.

Or perhaps he was looking for the wrong word. Gold? What was gold in the eyes of humans? Humans, after all, were all vain and naïve beings. They would mistake useless trash for something rare and valuable. It was no surprise many of the things they held precious were all insignificant to him. He needed to look out for something else instead, to look at other places that mankind has turned its eyes on to find power in this universe.

_Universe. _He thought suddenly. _Universe was everything._ _Control the universe and you control everything. You have power beyond cosmos and time space bends at your will._ That would be true power.

He then searched with Universe as the key word. Only a handle of books seemed to contain any interesting results, but, finally, one of them ended up relevant.

'_The key to have the power of the universe itself has been the goal of many old wisdom-seekers as well as many legendary figures, making it the central subject of their tales. Some regarded it as a material power granted by an artifact or great being, while others saw it as an abstract knowledge that, upon learning and grasping it, the key to be one with the universe would be attained. Examples of the former…'_

He skimmed that part. The later, the concept of power through knowledge, had just gained his attention.

_'…while examples of the later include the ancient Chinese legend of the Dragon Scroll, an ancient text that could only be granted to the warrior chosen to be the legendary Dragon Warrior."_

The Dragon Scroll. That's something he had never heard of. In fact, he didn't think he had ever heard of it from anyone or from anywhere in this world. It had to be one of those obscure legends that had never reached enough ears to be turned into enough printed words.

He felt hypocrite for allowing himself to succumb to his curiosity (he considered it an inherently human trait) and searched further for more information on the Dragon Scroll. He was partly doubtful that what he'd find would lead him to what he was looking for, but a hunch on his subconscious requested him to proceed and find out.

Not surprisingly, none of the material so far had been of use. Books about legends from the Far East made no further mention of the Dragon Scroll. Legends spoke of daunting heroes, wicked evildoers, wise masters, demonic creatures, mighty weapons and magical artifacts, but no such thing as the Dragon Scroll.

_Perhaps it's just a lie._ He assumed. _Perhaps there's no such thing as the Dragon Scroll, only a fabricated story to deceive the fool._

_Then again, the same could be said about the legend of Sparda._ He thought then. As he drew that comparison, he started to think that this Dragon Scroll tale may have some truth behind it. Very few mortals would ever get to hear the name of Sparda in their lives. It was such an obscure story to the human world. A story that only exists today printed in very rare and old tomes across the world. Those humans who had come across the story always disregarded it as unbelievable and unreal tale.

Yet, the story was real. He knew that so well. He was, after all, the very son of Sparda himself.

He had come to two assumptions now then: one, the legend of the Dragon Scroll didn't survive through history and ended up nearly lost; or two, that someone has, across the years, attempted to erase all traces of the Dragon Scroll so to make sure no one ever finds it.

Whatever scenario might be real, it was obvious that the legend still had remnants to this day. And as he continued reading through the tomes, he discovered more of them. Very few of them, but enough for him to continue his search.

Already now, a few names had been attached to the legend of the Dragon Scroll: _the Dragon Warrior, the Furious Five, the Jade Palace, the Valley of Peace…_ It didn't seem like much, but with this, he now had a wider field to search with. He opened once again one of the books he had read earlier and browsed quickly towards a page where he remembered the name of Furious Five to be written so clearly.

_The Furious Five. Regarded as five of the mightiest warriors to have ever existed in the history of China. _The descriptive passages were paraphrased by him into those simple sentences. _Protectors of the Valley of Peace, they resided in the Jade Palace, which is said was their home until the day of their death._

He skimmed further into the lecture until he found another passage that earlier seemed irrelevant, but now had drawn all his attention.

_[…]the Dragon Warrior title would be granted to one of them, and whoever did would become the mightiest kung fu warrior in the history of China. However, none of them were chosen, as legend tells that a different warrior fell from the sky engulfed in a ball of fire, a warrior like no one had ever seen before. That warrior would end up being chosen as the Dragon Warrior. He achieved perfection over nature and became one with the universe. _

_And _after that…nothing. Only more and more mentions of different legendary figures that Vergil cared very little for.

But what he had found proved to be good enough for him. He began to process the newly learned information and began to hypothesize.

It seemed obvious to him now that the Dragon Scroll and the Dragon Warrior were linked together very closely. However, there seemed to be little to no information of the former in comparison to the later. In fact, there seemed to be little information on both altogether, Yet, by contrast, the tales of the Furious Five were all there in the tome, explained briefly, but with enough detail and length.

This was all the information he had now, yet all that he needed. There was nothing else he could use here anymore. Deeming the data on the Five valuable enough, he took the book with him and left the library in silence, turning off all lights along the way and shutting the front door with loose lock. He didn't bother re-arranging all the other tomes, however. That mattered little.

The next morning, the library keeper opened the doors of his library innocently enough, only to receive the unsettling surprise that last night someone had broken into his property and, to add insult to the injury, had stolen some of his material. By the time that occurred, however, Vergil was already far away from that place. He was on his way toward his next destination.

-x-x-x-x-

Blending in among the humans proved to be useful very often. After he had left the villa, he headed towards the nearest airport. The idea of money was ridiculous to him, but if he wanted to be discrete in public, he had to play by their rules sometimes. He spent the cash he had stolen from a clumsy passerby moments ago (the consequence of his crime mattered naught to him) and with it, purchased a ticket for the next flight towards China.

He was traveling lightly and unsuspicious enough. On his small luggage he carried what any average human else would deem as a collectible antique katana (how convenient for Vergil that none of them had any knowledge on the almighty Yamato) along with two books: '_Legendary Warriors from the Far East', _the book he had stolen from the library, and another book that he had been carrying since far before that.

It was written in seemingly illegible scribbles. For the ignorant eyes, it would merely be thought of as a book written in a foreign language, but Vergil, who carried knowledge far older than any of theirs, knew by heart what each and every character written in the book translated into.

_'Advanced Necromancy: Summoning the Long Deceased' _was the title of that book.

-x-x-x-x-

_"A meeting of power shall end in conflict."_

**Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 7 - Clause 1**

**-x-x-x-x-**

.


	2. A Meeting of Power

_**The Furious Five are characters owned by DreamWorks Animation SKG, Inc.**_

_**Vergil is a character owned by Capcom**_

**The Heartless**

**-x-x-x-x-**

**A Meeting of Power**

**-x-x-x-x-**

"_He profanes the land with ill intentions and disturbs the peace with a lust for power."_

**Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 3 - Clause 5**

-x-x-x-x-

The Valley of Peace. A place that for centuries had lived up to its name. And yet, to this day, it continued to do so…

Sounds of footsteps on the dirt were replaced by for those of stone as the blue-coated young man walked his way into the village. Other than that, only the sound of the wind under the sunset sky, flowing through the structures on the sides of the streets, could be heard.

He walked, carrying the small black bag hanging by a strap on his shoulder, his eyes dead set on the destination that stood directly straight at the end of the long street and beyond. Besides him, the silent village remained ignored.

The centuries-old houses never looked so tranquil and the streets never so undisturbed. No signs of conflict, only serenity.

The white of the walls had turned into a corrupted grey. The empty and half-broken crates once carried goods of all kinds, edible and otherwise, but the only goods that they contained were now collections of dust. The colorful signs that invited the people to purchase from a humble business were far from inviting at this moment; all they said 'go away, there's nothing in here anymore'.

He continued his march, not looking at the shady silhouettes of the structures that once stood thanks to hard working handymen, now cruelly cracked and destroyed, incomplete, with their missing pieces uselessly lying as debris below them. They had stopped being hospitable many, many years ago.

He walked and the only sounds he heard were still the steps of his brown boots against the uneven stone floor and the whistling sound of the wind. No children playing on the streets, no vendors promoting their goods, no friends nor families having a pleasant discussion at their doorsteps, no neighbors bickering angrily through their windows, no one. They were all gone.

The Valley of Peace was indeed at peace. Peace in silence. Peace in emptiness. Peace in death.

But Vergil had no interest in ghost towns. He walked and paid no mind to the aged and decayed village and continued his path through the road.

By the time he had put the village behind, the sun was halfway-hidden behind the large mountains. Right in front him were now the so-called Thousand Steps, a tremendously lengthy upward stairway that led to the structure that stood powerful and vigilant over the entire valley:

The Jade Palace, his destination.

He had read of this place. In the book of '_Legends of the Far East', _it was mentioned several times, most of which involved the name of the Furious Five. There wasn't any mention of the Dragon Warrior ever setting foot in this place, but the Furious Five were undeniably linked heavily to him. Ergo, the clue to finding about the Dragon Warrior and the location of the powerful Dragon Scroll must me hidden within the walls of this legendary complex.

Once he reached the top of the stairway, the sun now laid behind the mountains, leaving a glowing orange twilight around their silhouettes. A broken wooden gate rested crumbled at his feet. Nothing stood on his way into the structure. He walked in and finally made it inside the walls of the Jade Palace.

-x-x-x-x-

A few steps in and his mind finally settled in halting his march. Something about this place intrigued him now. He found himself in the middle of the palace courtyard, which also doubled as an arena, according to the written stories. This was the place where many important ceremonies were held at.

What exactly surprised him was how kindly time had treated this place in comparison to the rest of the village. While showing hints of decay and missing fragments of its structure, the palace, or this section at least, and with the exception of the front gate, still remained stable. Could it be that this place where heroes lived and trained had become a holy ground not to be tainted by the passage of time?

Whatever the reason was, it didn't end up being important. In the end, there really wasn't anything else to look at and decided to proceed.

He resumed his way into the palace through a new path of stairs, which soon split into a couple of sidewalks, leading to opposite directions, and another stairway, this one leading towards the most remarkable building of the palace, a structure of big proportions that stood omnipotent atop the complex.

If he recalled well, that would be the Sacred Hall of Warriors.

The hall stood there, tempting him, but since the moment had arrived at the valley his intention was set clear, and the Sacred Hall was not that. But he could return here, should he need to. After all, there was no one here to stop him (no one who would _attempt_ to anyway) and he had all the time in the world to search this place.

He turned to his right and continued the road in front of him. The Sacred Hall would have to wait for now.

The path had suddenly turned into another stairway that led towards a cliff top where a small building stood. Could those be the barracks of the warriors that inhabited the palace? Whatever they were, he concluded that there was nothing of interest in that place.

The path seemingly ended at this point, right in front of the barracks. His walk all the way here had been as seen completely pointless, however, had he not caught the sight of a faded path of dirt that led him into the woods of the mountain.

It was a curious sight, he had to admit. Every significant place in the palace was clearly visible and unconcealed in the open. Why would there be something hidden inside the forest?

_Perhaps, _he thought, _something so important it had to be concealed into a place where all sense of safety would abandon all those who dared to search it…_

That thought was all he needed to prompt his way into the path, confident that there'd be no obstacle strong enough to even be regarded as a threat for him. He followed the dirty path through the dark forest. His keen sense of orientation led his way.

_Whatever is that I find here, it better be worth it…_

-x-x-x-x-

And it was.

In fact, not just that; this was the place he had been looking for since the moment he had made to the Valley.

The path reached a clearing in middle of the forest. Somehow, he could sense that very few people had known of this place, let alone come here at all. The reason why was clear for him to see. The significance this location held for those who resided in the palace was obvious.

Distributed across the old dirt and the few remaining patches of grass were the graves of the warriors that had long ago resided in this palace, all died heroically in their quests to protect the Valley and all of China.

This was the cemetery of the palace.

He made his way through the marble tombstones, most of them being mere flat stones with the names of the fallen hero written on Chinese characters, with the occasional more decorative ones in between. He knew he'd find them. There weren't many graves in here to begin with and, besides, being regarded as the mightiest heroes of the Valley, he presumed the bodies he looked for would have been given a more privileged spot on this graveyard.

He wasn't wrong, as further in to the cemetery he sighted the ruins of an old mausoleum, considerably distant from the rest of the graves. The decay on the structure was more than apparent: the door that closed the entrance was destroyed, moss had grown at the base of the columns and the entirety of the ceiling had fallen and now rested as debris.

Now without any cover, a set of _five _tombstones, surrounded by the remaining pillars, rested.

This was it. He had found them at last!

Speeding up his pace, he set foot into the ruined floor of the mausoleum. The violet sky signaled the final step of transition before the night would finally cover the land, but it proved to be no issue for his sight. He stopped once he found himself standing in front of the graves of the ruined mausoleum.

All five graves looked just as decayed as the structure that housed them, turning the engraved characters into nearly illegible characters. However, an inscription had been written on the floor in front of the graves. Having been written in larger characters, the words were clear enough for him to read.

'_Here rest the bodies and souls of the Furious Five, mighty and brave defenders of the Valley of Peace and all of China.'_

Yes, this was it! He had finally found them!

The Furious Five proved to be more than legends now: they were real! And if they were real, so had to be the Dragon Warrior and the Dragon Scroll.

He was so close now. Soon enough, the power of the universe would be his.

_No time to be hasty. _He reminded himself, calming down his eagerness. _First, I must know if the scroll is indeed real. And that means, I must ask some questions first…_

He opened the small bag he had been carrying since his arrival to China. Only three items were contained in it, all of them crucially important, but only of them was of need right now.

It was the book under the title _'Advanced Necromancy: Summoning the Long Deceased'_, written in a language forgotten by mankind.

Since his childhood, Vergil had come to learn and understand the nature of the dark power that flowed through his veins, the inheritance of his father, Sparda, and with years and years of research and experimenting, he had acquired the knowledge to use it in many different ways, most of them forbidden and forsaken by humans, who feared such power the moment they realized it was too much for them to handle. But Vergil was above them. He had become proficient in the occult arts and the use of dark magic. One of its branches, necromancy, had just recently gained his attention. Though interacting with the death was nowhere near his priorities, he concluded that it could become potentially hand. It was power, after all, and the more power he obtained the better.

To his dismay, however, there was a huge inconvenient regarding his powers: they were still _limited._ Until he found the ultimate power he sought, he'd have to continue managing the usage of his power, specially this time of all times: though strong, his power was not fit for necromancy.

Within the pages of the book there were the instructions for a powerful ritual. It would allow him to reach the knowledge he sought, but should he use it, he'd spend an immenseamount of his power. It was very unlikely that he'd be able to perform the same ritual a second time should he need to.

He understood the risks and he had come this far, so close to achieve the goal of his existence. He'd not back down at anything. Even though it might weaken him, he was decided to go through the ritual.

Without effort, he proceeded to toss aside any other debris near any of the other graves. For this to work, he had to make sure the floor was free of any object that could interfere.

Setting his bad aside, Vergil picked a particularly long and sharp-pointed fragment from the debris beside one of the pillars and placed it carefully a few feet in front of the middle grave, having the pointed end facing straight upward.

He gave one last quick read to the text on the book. Everything was ready.

He dropped the book back into his bag. "Let's get this started then."

Without hesitation, he impaled is right hand all the way through the pointy stone in front of him, kneeling down until his hand nearly reached the bottom, letting out small grunts of pain.

Soon enough, blood began to flow out of the big wound on his hand. He shoved his hand a little further to let more blood out, which flowed down the stone all the way to the floor where a small bloody puddle began to take form.

He lifted his left hand to then smash it against the ground with immense force. Such was the force, in fact, that he ended up burying his arm halfway through the forearm.

He further wounded his other hand with all the strength he could manage. For this to work, he had to spend a large portion of his power, and lose all the blood he could lose.

And this was only the beginning…

"Listen to me, souls of the dead!" He spoke with a loud, commanding voice. "I call you forth, you who have long ago left this world, to rise once again and awake from your endless slumber!"

The puddle beneath the pointed stone grew bigger and bigger. This amount of lost blood would have been enough to cause an average human to pass out, but it was nothing that Vergil couldn't handle. That said, the process was not entirely painless.

"You who perished long ago in the past, I summon you back to life, to be bound into your mortal shapes once again!"

As the puddle of blood increased in size, a dark aura began to surround Vergil's body. It was at first subtly, almost invisible, but little by little, it showed itself.

"Though your bodies still remain underneath these graves and your souls continue to exist within the universe, the power that once held them together has faded from existence. That is why now, in order for you to return to this world, I give you part of my own power!"

The aura around Vergil then began to concentrate on his left arm, the one buried into the ground.

"For you to come back fully alive, I also give this blood, my blood, so it can be your blood as well. Let it flow through your veins; let it form your bones and flesh; let it give you back the body you once possessed so it can house your soul one more time!"

His right hand had bled so much by now that the puddle had grown to large proportions, effectively covering the front of all five graves.

"You shall awake from your eternal slumber again, for I am not requesting your presence." He pushed his left arm further underground past the elbow. "I am _demanding_ it!"

The energy that flowed through his arm was siphoned by the earth, expanding all across the floor of the mausoleum, which was covered by the inhumanly impossible large pool of blood.

"I command you all to live once again! I drag your souls to this place and force them into your bodies for them to rise; I force them to move and feel once again! You are without a choice, for my will is immense and my will is for you to rise from death!"

The pool of blood began to react to the glowing aura on the ground, akin to the ebullition of potted water reacting to the fire underneath it. Just like that, the blood of Vergil began to boil violently.

"Master Mantis, Master Viper, Master Crane, Master Tigress and Master Monkey," the ground underneath him began to shake and Vergil breathed heavily as he felt a large amount of his power abandoning him. This was the point of no return. He would finish the ritual, no matter what consequences it would bring.

" LIVE AGAIN!"

With that last shout, he released his power into the corpses that rested under the graves and the blood that boiled above them.

The powerful and bright aura engulfed the entire mausoleum. Even Vergil's eyes suffered temporary blindness from it. Yet despite that, he felt how the ground opened to let the lifeless bodies of the legendary warriors to rise from their resting place. As they rose, they were engulfed by Vergil's blood. The aura surrounded each of the bloodied corpses and served as catalyst for the process of restoration, infusing the blood with the bodies and regenerating all rotten flesh, bone and organ.

Vergil retracted his right hand from the piercing stone and his left arm from the ground. He bandaged the wound with a piece of cloth from his bag. It wasn't vitally important, but it would help his wound to regenerate quicker, much quicker.

He felt as if he had been emptied. No exhaustion of any kind, but although he still retained a good amount of power, he had undeniably lost most of all that he had in that ritual. It would take a long time for him to recover all he had lost, so the sacrifice had to be worth it.

The aura dissipated slowly and Vergil recovered his sight once more.

Once he could see perfectly, he saw right in front of him the reanimated bodies of those he had brought back from death: the Furious Five.

…but wait, this wasn't right…

… In fact, this was _strange._

In front of him were living bodies, yes. He knew they were alive. Their bodies showed no sign of decay or injury whatsoever. They looked healthy and, strangely, young, for what they were. On top of that, he could see them breathing, so they had to be alive.

But alas, there was something that still dumfounded him. He looked attentively at the bodies to assure that his mind wasn't playing dirty tricks to him, but even when he had made sure his mental condition was more than perfect (as he was confident it always has been), what stood before him was still a matter of total perplexity.

The Furious Five were all named after five of the styles of hung ga kung fu: Monkey, Mantis, Crane, Viper and Tiger (actually _Tigress, wasn't it?)_. All along, he believed their names to be a mere homage to the respective styles that each of them had mastered.

It never occurred to him that their names would be more than that. As it apparently turned out, their names were…indicators of their actual species.

The bodies in front of Vergil were not human: they were _animal_.

"What is the meaning of this?" He frowned in annoyance. Was this some sort of occult prank? Had he performed the ritual improperly?

No, it couldn't be. This book was of complete legitimacy. He had made sure of that himself the moment he acquired it! He couldn't have misread the instructions for he had head read them several times with complete attention.

It was a bothersome occurrence, yet he continued to stare at the bodies that he had just resurrected in search for any indication that the resurrected beings were those he had been looking for.

There was a small praying mantis, apparently one of a wingless variant, with a small blue tattoo on its back, as well as a stylized Chinese character written in it.

Besides it was the much larger body of a bird (only slightly shorter than himself, Vergil deduced). A crane, to be precise. Its neck and head were covered by black feathers, while its torso and majority of its wings by white ones. It was…wearing a pair of blue loose pants with a purple sash wrapped around its waist. Its legs were long, but very skinny and very fragile-looking. He noticed also that under its beak rested what looked to be a typical Chinese straw hat.

_Did my power also bring back clothing…to an animal? This is ridiculous!_

The third body was that of a bright green snake. It was unclothed, but it sported an array of Chinese characters tattooed all the way through its back. What amused him the most was the sight of two lotus flower blossoms resting on its head in a seemingly decorative fashion.

The last body was an orange-golden furred monkey with a black-skinned face. Its forearms were protected by wristbands and just like the crane it was wearing pants, maroon ones instead of blue.

It was strange and unbelievable for certain, but this couldn't be wrong. These _had _to the Furious Five. Masters Mantis, Crane, Viper, Monkey, Tigress…

_Wait a second…_

Something else was wrong. Something else was _very_ wrong. How could it be that he had come all this way to find the Furious Five resting on five identical graves and surrendering his power to bring back the five beings…just to find, right there, only _four_ of them!

"What? How did this happen?"

Had his power not been enough? Did he lack the strength to bring back one more of them? Was all that power only enough to bring back four, not all five?

Things were not turning out as Vergil had envisioned them. However, in the back of his mind, he acknowledged, there could be no room of doubt and denial. _These_ had to be the Furious Five (four of them at least), the real ones, back to live just like they were during their prime years. They had to be, or else he had traveled so far and wasted a precious amount of power _for nothing!_

Well, what was done was done and all he had left was to proceed as he planned. He would need to manage with just four of them and even if they were not human…not like their species mattered, actually. Dealing with non-humans was customary for him (and may more preferable now that he thought about it).

All he needed now was to make sure that; somehow, he could communicate with them and hope that they still retained all the knowledge they possessed before they passed away.

First, though, he better had to ensure they were alive at all.

His involvement wasn't required, though, for soon enough, the bodies began to awake, just like a living being would normally wake up from a deep slumber.

The first to awake was the snake.

-x-x-x-x-

Her bright blue-sky eyes opened slowly and weakly, but it was evident she was slowly regaining conciousness.

"Where…"

She spoke with a soft feminine voice.

"Where…where am I?...w-what happened?"

She sounded disoriented. It had to be normal, being back to life right after how knows how much centuries of being dead.

"V…Viper? Is that you?"

As if reacting to her voice, the monkey began to recover consciousness too.

"Monkey?"

Turning to her right, she saw her fellow warrior slowly rising up to his feet. "What, how?"

It didn't take long until the mantis and crane also awoke to the sound of their comrades' voices.

"Uh, ah…this is one heck of a headache…" The mantis said starkly as he rubbed his head with his pincer. "Wait, was that you, Viper?"

Their eyes all open, the confused animal rose sturdily. Such must be the feel of being back to a physical body after centuries of being nothing but an intangible spirit.

In a matter of minutes, however, their psychomotor functions seemed to look normal as if they had just remembered how to use their bodies again.

The crane spoke now. "Mantis, Monkey, Viper…it is you." In his voice there joy. "It's you!"

The long-time comrades –no, friends- shared a small-rejoice over their reunion.

"I can't believe it…it's all of us, again..." The reptilian warrior seemed to want to cry in joy and rejoice...but something held her back.

Why did this not feel right? It's been an indescribable amount of time since they have been together and now fate had provided them a chance for a long-cherished reuinion. Then why wasn't this the moment of smiles and embraces they had been wishing for? Why did none of this feel fine?

There was no celebration, for soon enough questions would fall upon them like a vicious shower of meteorites.

"Yes…" Crane's cheerfulness cracked in his voice, followed and replaced by mystification. "…but how? And why?"

Any fondness of regathering was abandoned that moment.

It would have seemed that the circumstances that had led them to this moment were of little importance, but something about this felt too strange and mysterious for them to ignore. They felt strange, found themselves at an unknown place and they didn't even know how. It bothered them so much it itched.

"And…where is Tigress?"

Monkey's question prompted all four to look all around the place, but they found no signs of their missing fifth teammate.

Their fruitless search let them gain awareness of their location. That said, they had no idea of where they found themselves at. The moonlight could only do so much for them tonight and the shapes of the moonlit trees and ruined architecture around them didn't give them enough hints.

"And just where are we?"

At the lack of answers, they let silence to sink in. The breeze of the summer night flowing and rustling the trees of the woods was the only thing to be heard that moment.

Then Mantis broke silence.

"Uh, guys…" Crane, Viper and Monkey looked down at the insect who looked astonished at the stone formations in front of them. "you might want to see this."

A cold shiver ran through all of them when they recognized them as tombstones.

Yet it wasn't only the fact they were graves, but that there were _five_ graves, right in front of them.

Plus the additional fact that, right now, they were standing on each of them.

And if that hadn't been enough, there were also the revealing inscriptions carved in each of the tombstones…

They were old and faded, but looking close enough, they could make out something particularly scary in them.

Names.

_Their_ names.

Disbelief invaded their minds.

They were unwilling to accept it as real…, yet the possibility of being true could not escape their minds.

"Could these be…ours?"

Monkey spoke with uncertainty.

His doubts and those of the rest were sealed shut when they discovered the terrifying inscription underneath them.

Clear but hesitant, Crane read it aloud.

"Here rest the bodies and souls of…the Furious Five, mighty and brave defenders of the Valley of Peace and all of China_…_"

It was true then. These graves, in right in front of them, were their graves.

"B-but, we're here!" Viper bursted out in denial. "We're standing here alive! We can't be d-!"

"Wait, Viper." The simian warrior interrupted her friend's hysteria. She quieted down to hear what her comrade had to say, but she was far from feeling any better. "These…" Monkey stared off into nothing in particular. His mind was wandering off into places he didn't remember.

"These…graves, I think…I think I've been here before!"

"What?"

"Yes. I really can't help but feel like this place is so familiar…"

"Hold on a second." Crane spoke up. The statement that he would speak came out insecurely.

"You…could be right. This place feels familiar. I think I know this place too."

"What are you guys talking about? I have never been in this place before." Viper's perplexity was further aggravated.

"I know that." Mantis said suddenly with confidence. "I know…"

He spoke the most confidently of all. It was that assuredness on his words that draw his comrades' eyes at him, mystified at what their smaller fellow meant with that statement.

"I mean, I think I know why you don't know this place, Viper, but why also you two guys" he addressed the other two male warriors, "seem to, even if just vaguely. And that's because…I do now remember this place."

"Mantis, from when do you remember this place?" Viper pushed the questioning into the insect. He momentarily averted her gaze for he felt hesitant to reveal this knowledge to her.

"Mantis!" She demanded his answer.

"…from the day we buried you, Viper."

"What!" The words of his insect were just too stunning for her to believe.

It was at that instant when Crane gasped at the return of stray memory into his mind. "I remember now."

"W-what? You mean, the day you say you…?"

"Yes, Viper. You don't remember this place because you… died before you ever knew of it."

"…" Astonished, she found herself at a loss of words.

"Yes. I remember it well now…" The reminiscence of such painful memory brought a past back and old burden and the others could see that well. "This" he placed his wing on the tombstone right in front of her "was your grave."

Viper stared at the stone that marked the spot of her grave…_her grave_. She couldn't grasp this. How could she have a grave if she was there, _alive_!

"And I'm afraid this one here" he walked to the next grave, the one at the right of Viper's "was yours, Monkey." The simian was at an equal befuddlement. "And you don't remember this place very well because you were the next to go. You've only been here once, so to say…"

"And the one here at the middle, Crane," Mantis spoke up as he perched atop the middle tombstone "is yours. You were third to go."

It seemed like reality began to reveal itself to them, finally, and a truth hard to swallow and difficult to digest appeared at their eyes.

"So that means this one here" The insect warrior jumped to the grave at the left of Crane's "has to be mine and that leaves us with this one" he said as he moved towards the fifth and final grave "is Tigress', who left this world after all of us did…"

"So there's no doubt then." Monkey spoke like he'd be ready to accept the truth of the matter. "We are dead, aren't we?"

"It may seem like, but…" Mantis shut his eyes for a moment. Somewhere in his deepest memories there had to be some information that would conclude that he had passed away long ago. He tried his hardest to gather back any important recollection…

"Urgh" he grunted in frustration. His mental search had been fruitsless. "I can't remember well. I can't recall any moment I could have died. I mean, I do remember just about everything else! My battle with the crocodile bandits, the day I first came to the palace, my battles and adventures with you all and, heck, like I said, I even remember the day you guys were buried in this place! But everything after that is vague…I can only remember feeling a weird sensation of…emptiness and silence."

"Well…I believe do remember most of my life too." The reptilian warrior spoke out. "But just like Mantis, my last memories are blurry and unclear. The only that comes to me I is a sensation just like the one he described, but nothing else."

"The same goes for me. What about you, Crane?" Monkey asked to the avian.

"Yes, that's true." He went pensive for a minute, processing the little information they had collected regarding their situation. "So…I guess we could say that we, indeed, passed away time ago."

"And judging by the current state of this mausoleum," Mantis followed, "or rather, what's left of it, that time ago must have been a _very _long one."

"So we all died, one after the other." Viper continued. "First me, then Monkey, then Crane, then Mantis and, finally, Tigress." She paused at the mention of her last comrade. "Wherever she might be right now…"

"Perhaps she's still down there, buried." Mantis theorized.

"But how come all four of us are back to life, but she isn't?" A much better question sprouted from the last one into Crane's mind.

"Though, I guess the real question here should be…_how_ did we come back to life?"

"And why?" Mantis finalized the round of questions with the most crucial of them all.

Silence again. The answers for the masters' questions where nowhere to be presented.

There remained little room for thoughts now as they began to contemplate the possibility that this mystery may not ever be revealed to them at all…

"That I could gladly answer for you." At last, the blue coated observant stepped from the shadows of the night and revealed his figure by the moonlight. His unexpected presence provoked a must surprised reaction from the kung fu warriors who stared in bewilderment.

He spoke in Chinese, just like them, but the looks of him told them he was from nowhere near the Valley of Peace or anywhere from China at all.

He was nearly around the same height as the avian master, if not taller. He stood perfectly erected in two legs. He covered his feet with a pair of brown boots and wore dark blue pants, matching the equally-colored leather vest. His most prominent piece of clothing was a large indigo-blue coat, made of an unknown silk-looking material that fell down all the way to his ankles. The only thing he carried was a small black bag hanging by his shoulder, its contents impossible to tell. He had no tail, no fur or no claws of any kind. His hands were relatively small as was his head comparing it to other species the masters were familiar with. He had no tail, no fur or no claws of any kind.

His face had to be the most intriguing feature of his entire body: it looked nearly flat, except for a pointy protuberance in the center that seemed to be his nose. A small and simple mouth composed by two lips, two odd-looking ears at the side of the round-esque head and a pair of small blue eyes underneath an exposed forehead. The visible hair on his body was the peculiar looking white hair growing on his head, which looked like it had been swept back, as well as a pair of white eyebrows above his eyes.

He looked like no one they had ever seen before. His sight was of the most uncomfortable kind. That, coupled up with his unexplained presence at such inconvenient time on a place like this, gave the four warriors a very unfriendly sensation about this man. They turned themselves to face the stranger directly and positioned in a steady stance. They tried not to suggest any bad intentions to the mysterious man, yet prepared themselves should he happen to have any of his own…

"Who are you?" Crane asked boldly.

The stranger walked a few steps ahead, further revealing his figure with the moonlight. "The name is Vergil"

He then came to a halt a few feet away from the warriors. "And just like you, I have questions that need to be answered."

His subtle smirk was caught by the trained eyes of the four warriors. There was something in him that was evidently not good. Did this man know them? Did he have something to do with their apparent resurrection? Could they trust him at all?

Vergil could see their uncertainty in their faces. They would not trust him so easily. Likewise, he wasn't going to easily trust them either.

One way or another, only conflict could be outcome to this meeting of power.

-x-x-x-x-

"_Evil must be opposed and destroyed."_

**Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 12 - Clause 9**

**-x-x-x-x-**

Author's notes:

This chapter ended up being longer than I anticipated so I guess this means the following chapters might be just as lengthy. Things start to get quite bloody already, but nothing that demands an M-rating for the story just yet. Whether the rating gets pushed or remains this same will be definitely defined by the next chapter. Hopefully none gets effed up if I ended up increasing the rate of this fic. But again, I won't know that until I start writing the next chapter soon.

And since it's unlikely that I will have chapter 3 ready before the end of year, I say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to you all!

'til laters!


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